Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Love in the Third Degree.
Omigods. I am overwhelmed at the moment. Just that kind of busy. And not too happy, looking around the house and remembering one or the other of the girls getting something out or taking something apart with the famous words, “I’ll clean this up, Mommy,” before heading off to their dad’s for the weekend and leaving it for me to clean up when they know I have plans.
I’m suddenly having a lot more of a social life—nothing particularly anticipated. Just happening that way. A few I sought out and other upcoming trips and festivities that just popped up as an opportunity I grabbed. I really haven’t wanted to invest the time in a superficial social life. If it doesn’t make me happy, I have plenty of things to do alone that I find rewarding.
I’ve prepared more for this weekend’s social activities than for the next several, but it’s the nature of the event and the lesser ease of being around new people vs comfortable people. That means putting aside other things I’d planned to do just to take care of preparations.
Which brings me to my biggest pet peeve.
Someone asked me yesterday what my biggest peeve was and I couldn’t decide on a single one that was any greater than the rest or that wasn’t tied to a specific moment. But it goes along perfectly with my sense of impatience and let’s-be-efficient-and-effective-and-get-this-done.
Whether it’s Experian’s telephone data collectors calling for the fourth time in two days about stuff that’s none of their business anyway, a snarky receptionist at my doctor’s office who can’t get the appointment dates right, men who spend hours talking to me about romance and then confess they’re already involved elsewhere, my younger daughter not calling in time to let me know she wouldn’t be home in time for a family event that then had to be postponed indefinitely, authors who sign contracts to deliver manuscripts and then renege after I’ve paid for substantial editing, or potential students who want free information but have no intention of working toward actually learning anything—I really hate it when people waste my time.
Especially when they don’t even acknowledge that they’ve wasted my time. Well of course not. How can they acknowledge to me what they’re oblivious about?
But on the upside, my daughters just walked in and announced they’ve come back to clean up their messes. They have only 30 minutes, but they’re back.
I guess SOME people do understand that I value my time.
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